


At The Cinema

by kuro



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro/pseuds/kuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony works part-time at a cinema, where he's responsible for most of the things (including repairing old machinery). When he starts to clean the hall after the last screening of the day, he finds it not quite as empty as he expected - one person is still sitting in their seat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At The Cinema

Tony actually liked his part-time job. It was a rather odd one, sure. But he was never bored, he could do his work without anyone ordering him around, and the work was mostly interesting. Selling the tickets at the entrance of the cinema was fascinating, because he got to see all the odd people that came to see the films they were screening. They showed old classics, geek films with a very committed fanbase, obscure films, art house films, and each of them attracted a very different clientèle. Sometimes not necessarily the kind you’d expect, but that was the interesting part.

The screening itself was also great, because Tony got to play around with all these old film projectors and film reels. And while the film was screening, Tony could distract himself with working on other old machinery because the owner had a side business for mending said old machinery. Tony loved that part of his work, because he got his hands on a variety of old, antique items that you hardly ever saw outside of a museum today. (Yes, he was very much a child of modernity, but he wasn’t unappreciative of the achievements of the past.)

The only part he didn’t really like that much was cleaning the hall after the screening was over and the audience had left. The film today had been some kind of obscure 1920’s love story (without happy end, which meant Tony had refused to watch it), so the mess in the hall shouldn’t be too bad. But Tony still sighed when he took the broom to start cleaning. Cleaning was his least favourite duty.

When he entered the hall, though, he noticed that the room wasn’t as empty as he had expected. One single audience member was still in their seat. Probably someone who had fallen asleep somewhere halfway during the film and hadn’t realised yet that the film was over. Sighing again, Tony put the broom aside and walked over to the sole figure in the dim light.

“Hey,” he said in a hushed voice. “The show’s over, you have to leave now.”

The figure gave a jump and turned around, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment wordlessly. It was a boy around Tony’s age, probably taller than him, with nice blond hair and presumably pretty blue eyes. Right now, though, the eyes were visibly red and swollen even in the dim lighting, and the boy was _bawling_. Snot was even running down his chin.

“O- _kay_ ,” Tony said, digging in his pocket for a handkerchief. “No more sad love stories for you. Let that be a lesson for you.”

He quickly wiped away the worst of the snot and then handed the hankie over to the boy. He took it and vigorously blew his nose.

“My friends from film school recommended it to me,” he eventually mumbled, sounding very apologetic. “Said it was a must-see. They didn’t tell me it was sad.”

“Nice friends you have there,” Tony commented sarcastically. “I can see from a mile away that you shouldn’t be watching these kinds of films.”

The boy’s eyebrows knitted and he looked vaguely insulted. As if he felt insulted, but he wasn’t quite sure _why_.

“I’m pretty good at guessing people’s taste,” Tony said and shrugged. “You seem like the kind of guy who likes happy films, maybe heroic stuff and films where people get along. Teamwork and happiness. Am I wrong?”

“No,” the boy admitted. He still looked a little pouty, though. (It was adorable.) “Am I that easy to read?”

“I wonder,” Tony answered. “Probably not. I just see a lot of people coming here and watch a variety of films. I’ve started seeing a pattern.”

“'mkay,” the boy said, blowing his nose again. “Sorry, I must be bothering you.”

“I’m in no hurry,” Tony lied. (He should really be cleaning up quickly so he could close the cinema and go home.) “Take your time. The name’s Tony, by the way.”

“Stebe,” the boy introduced himself. His nose was a little stuffy, still. It was cute. He got so upset about an old film whose actors were long dead, and then sat in the darkness of the cinema and cried all by himself. Probably because he was embarrassed that he had cried in the first place.

“So, Steve, what are you doing when you’re not crying about love stories?” Tony asked with a grin.

Steve looked at him for a moment, trying to gauge his intention. (Tony had only the best, really.) Eventually, he sighed and answered. “I’m an art major.”

“Ooh, you paint?” Tony asked, his interest piqued. He didn’t actually know any people who were artists. He was mostly surrounded by technically minded people. The only person he knew that was interested in art was Pepper, but she was the admiring and not the producing type.

“Drawing and painting, yes,” Steve answered reluctantly, as if he dreaded Tony’s reaction a little.

“Do you also draw people?” Tony asked. “You could draw me.” He sat down on the seat next to Steve and then moved into a seductive pose, wiggling his eyebrows. “Draw me like one of your French girls, Steve.”

That made Steve laugh a little. “There are no French girls, though,” he informed Tony with a smile.

“Even better,” Tony said, smiling back mischievously. “Draw me like no one else.”

Steve choked at that and gave Tony a panicked look.

“Was my guess wrong?” Tony asked, faux-innocent. “I’m usually good at picking out people’s preferences when it comes to _that_ , too.”

“You…you’re not wrong, no,” Steve admitted with a blush. “But…”

“But?” Tony asked, moving closer to Steve until they were practically face to face.

“But you’re really pretty,” Steve blurted. “And I’m all gross from crying.”

“I happen to think it’s cute.” Tony smiled and moved a little closer still. “So don’t worry too much about it.”

Eventually, it was Steve that made the decision to lean in a little further and kiss Tony on the lips. It was a strange, exhilarating feeling. It wasn’t like Tony made a habit of seducing innocent filmgoers in his cinema, and it wasn’t like he indiscriminately made out with people he didn’t know. But there was something about that boy who sat in the dark, crying after watching an old, grainy film. There was something strange that made Tony want to kiss him very badly. And maybe do a few more things to him.

Steve kissed a little clumsily, and a lot nervously. After a while, he calmed down a little and seemed to find the courage to take control of the kiss. He gently cradled Tony’s face in his hands, kissing Tony’s lips so carefully and intently, as if Tony was something _precious._ After what felt like an eternity or two, Tony had to reluctantly break the kiss. Leaning forward until their foreheads touched, he just breathed for a while.

Wow. That had been…exciting.

“Who are you, Steve?” he finally managed to ask before he had to laugh at his own silliness. Why was he asking something so dumb?

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Steve asked earnestly. He gently stroked Tony’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Maybe we’ve met somewhere in a former life or something.”

Tony chuckled. “That’s your theory? Our fates are intertwined because we had a connection in a former life?” he intoned dramatically.

“Maybe we were like these lovers in the film who died unhappily?” Steve mused. “And now that we meet again, we can find happiness.”

“You have way too much imagination,” Tony teased. “It seems I got myself a weirdo.”

“You just hit on a guy covered in snot…and popcorn,” Steve gave back, looking down at his lap. “I think that pretty much evens it out.”

“Maybe,” Tony relented, zeroing in on Steve’s lips again. “I’ll think about it. Later.”

  
  


The cinema ended up closing much, _much_ later than usual.

  
  


Steve also ended up becoming a regular at the cinema. With his own, private little shows after the official screening was over.

The screen, though, was never involved.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky and Nat are forever cackling about the whole thing, because they were the people who recommended the film to Steve in the first place, knowing full well that he was going to be a sobbing mess at the end. Asshole friends.


End file.
